


The Survivor

by pixieferry



Category: It Lives (Visual Novels), it lives beneath, it lives in the woods - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2019-10-03 11:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixieferry/pseuds/pixieferry
Summary: Tom Sato moving on after the events of It Lives In The Woods, until It Lives Beneath. (One shot)Edited - added a drabble of MC





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: depression, anxiety, survivor's guilt.  
> I purposely kept Harper (Main Character) gender neutral.

When people asked him what was he doing in the woods that night, Tom Sato always answered “I don’t know.”

Do you remember how you get there?

Do you remember hurting anyone?

What were you thinking?

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don't know.

It was a blank.

There were nights where he woke up, his sheets twisted and drenched, a scream strangled in his throat, torn between wanting and not wanting to remember whatever nightmare it was that woke him up.

There were moments when he caught himself drifting off and he would shake himself and panic.

Did he lose himself again? Was he in control? _Did he hurt anyone?_

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Tom began to doubt himself.

I should have done something. I should have fought. It's my fault.

Stop it stop it stop it. Andy didn't blame you. Stop blaming yourself.

He became hyper aware of every rustle, every shadow, until it became too much, overwhelming. He couldn't switch _off._

His parents were sympathetic, but they would rather pretend nothing was wrong. Which he did too at first. It was easy since he didn’t remember most of what had happened, only what he had been told. So he just let it sit and simmer until one day it wasn't okay.

Sorry, Tom, your problems aren’t real. Now please be a filial son and get that degree.  

It's just in your head. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’re not trying hard enough.

Why did you drop out, Tom?

Why are you embarrassing us, Tom? God, you're such a disappointment.

They never said the last one. They didn't have to. He could see it in their eyes.

Things were getting better. He had got help. Living one day at a time, picking up the pieces, surviving, functioning. Restlessly looking for answers, although lately it felt more like a death wish when he found himself roaming the woods in the dead of the night.

What was he thinking coming to this town? He knew there was something wrong, he should have stayed away. 

This was a bad idea.

Shit, who was he kidding? This was a _very_ bad idea.

There was one bright spot. Harper. A survivor like him. Made him smile, feel like his old self again, made _him_ feel welcomed even though Harper was the new kid in town. Harper gave him confidence, believed in him. Held his hand, didn't laugh at his fear of spiders.

He heard a scream.

“Tom! Help me!”

Andy? He felt a coldness rushing, holding him in a vise-like grip. _Oh God, did I-? No,no, please not again._

No, not Andy. Harper. Harper needs you, just like Andy needed you. What are you going to do, Tom?

“I-” he clenches his fists with determination. “Not again. I'm not letting you take my friend again!”


	2. Underwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble of MC and Tom

A friend of mine once said it's like treading on water. Well, I've gotten so used to it I forget it's not normal to feel like this. Most days I drift about. Some days I'm riding the waves, euphoric, nothing can touch me.

Until I crash.

Then it feels like there are weights pulling me down and sinking feels really good, like falling into an old blanket.

You're tired, it whispers. 

It's a trap, I know but I  _ am _ tired. It wraps tighter and I don't realise I've been dragged underwater and I'm suffocating in my own despair.

What warms me from the inside? The doctor asks as he hands me those pills that make me uncomfortably numb. I hate them. It makes me feel nothing, like I'm sleepwalking through life. Might as well be dead.

Stop that. 

So I make a list and it feels like a lie. Trivial. I tear it to pieces.  _ This _ makes you happy? You're an  embarrassment. My self loathing gnaws and spits me out in splintered bits. 

Not to be dramatic, yeah, I guess I am, God I want to end me.

But I'm not a kid anymore. I have people that need me. I can't hurt myself without hurting them.

"It's a never ending struggle for people like us," Tom says. "We just have to keep going. And hope to survive this together, one day at a time."

"And if we don't?"

His mouth drops open. He shrugs helplessly. "I don't wanna think about it."

We sit together in silence, shoulder to shoulder, staring but not watching the images moving in front of us.

"Wanna grab a pizza?" He suddenly asks.

"You mean like delivery?"

"No, go outside. We've got to get you out of those jammies." He wrinkles his nose. "And brush your teeth."

"But it's raining."

"Can't rain all the time." He smiles and then sings, _"The sun will come out tomorrow -"_

_ " _ Stop _." _

_ "So you gotta hang on til tomorrow-" _

"Can we have boba after?"

"Okay."

I know it's just a quick fix. Like patching a wound with a band-aid. But it will have to do for now, until I can break to the surface and remember the feel of sun hitting my face.

A friend once sang to me

_ Some days, they taste like lemonade. Some days can feel like razorblades. I wish I could float away, some days. _

For now, I just have to keep swimming.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bipolar. I'm pretty functional on the surface, but some days are exhausting.


End file.
